emptied my home and left my daughters behind.
Now they stood on the porch of an emptying house, blaming each other for the life they had chosen.
Rachel turned back to me.
“Can I see them?”
“No.”
The word came out quietly.
She looked as if I had struck her.
“Just once,” she pleaded. “I’m their mother.”
“You gave up the right to use that word when you left them crying in their cribs.”
“I made a mistake.”
“A mistake is forgetting an appointment. A mistake is saying something cruel